


Crush(ed)

by jeromevaleska



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, Mental Anguish, Obsessive Behavior, POV Second Person, Pining, Reader-Insert, References to Depression, This is just anguish overload pretty much, Tumblr Prompt, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:19:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6624769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeromevaleska/pseuds/jeromevaleska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jerome deals with his first crush, which is on you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crush(ed)

It had started off small, innocent even. Just a passing thought. A fleeting series of ‘what ifs?’. A gaze that lingered just a bit too long. Harmless. Evanescent. Some would even call it sweet.

Jerome did not expect it to come to this. It had grown, mutated. It had eaten up his brain until it was not just a passing fancy. It was a massive, doting, soul-sucking crush. He had dug himself into a trench and he knew it. Jerome spent a large proportion of his life feeling alone. He could never work out how to get people to like him. His life at the circus was a colorless stretch of despair, tendrils of despondency clinging to him like smoke. It was heartache wrapped up in lonely spaces.

He sat himself on a haystack, shoulders hunched as whispered giggles and mocking stares painted their scorn into his skin from behind. It was the dull ache of held back tears as fists made contact with flesh and the daily battle to even make himself leave his trailer. Every step of every morning was an uphill struggle, weighed down with the calls of ugly and boring and stupid. Friendless and alone, he shrunk into himself, curled into a ball, heart held tightly to his chest as it wheezed brokenly with all his unshed tears.

He yearned intensely and desperately hoped that maybe, just maybe, one day someone might want him. That someone might look at him with a smile, and say 'I like you'. But year after year that hope was slowly chipped away, each new day striking wounds under his skin, the flesh of him open and weeping, until he gave up, resigned himself to waking, shaking and alone, with no one to talk to.

The arrival of you in his life was a bright burst of happy against the gloom; you were a spark of color, vivid and brilliant against the grey of his life. Your friendship lit him up from the inside, warm and welcome. It was soft and sweet and hopeful – a jolt of good infused into his soul. It was a slow process of self-acceptance since, guided gently by your careful coaxing of his vulnerabilities into more confident bloom.

He often wondered why you chose to befriend him, feeling his face crumple in bemusement, but for some reason you did, and he had never been more grateful. Friendship with you was an exercise in laughter and an adventure in trust. You were a firework of exuberance wrapped around a core of affection so deep and persistent that he felt his breath catch in his throat.

You cared so deeply and reverently, loved your friends and family with all you had, that sometimes Jerome felt blinded. He was still getting used to it, getting used to having a friend. He still stuttered over it in his mind, found it hard to believe that it was true, that someone cared so much for him. He had to pinch himself – unsteady and giddy on his feet – when his presence was greeted by smiles and bright expressions and not jeering and laughter and blows to the sternum that punched tears from his eyes and left him struggling for breath. Every moment with you felt like coming home. It was soft and warm and comfortable, and everything he never allowed himself to want, because it was never an option.

It had only been a couple of months since he met you, but you burrowed so deep under his skin that he'd be anchor less without you. He couldn't imagine going back to his previous existence – cold, broken and alone. You breathed sunshine into his world and each breath he drew in only got warmer and brighter as time passed.

As the weeks went by, he couldn't help but notice how stunning you looked everyday, and he wondered how it was possible for you to look more gorgeous than the day before. Though, he didn't quite understand what he felt for you, or how to simply put it into words. He didn't know what to do with himself or why his heart pumped so quickly upon the very sight of you or the mention of your name. He never felt this kind of emotion, and he recalled how much he used to want to explore this new feeling, how much he used to crave it, but now he realized that he wished he had never yearned for these intense waves fluttering in the pool of his stomach. No, it wasn't worth it.

He recalled that first time when you introduced yourself and told him your name, a name he thought sounded as beautiful as yourself. Your smile, your laugh, and at a less extent – your body, had brought him on his knees; figuratively. Each time he had ever approached you, he was nervous, trembling with the fear that found its way to him whenever you were around. Always afraid that he might say the wrong thing to you, or at the most, spill out just how much you meant to him.

One of his many problems, was that each time he saw you, the very image of you remained in his head, popping out randomly and causing him distress. He sometimes had thoughts, about what would it be like if you were more than a friend – but he believed that he wasn't good enough to swoon a lady like yourself. It was as if those thoughts antagonized him, bothering him in different ways. You were kind and smart and good, and he felt like he didn't deserve that, because he thought he could never match your remarkable qualities.

He knew that he could never be the type of person for you; but another one of his problems was – he didn't know what you wanted, that was what messed with him more than anything else in the world. He knew his life couldn't compare to yours, and that he might not be able to give you everything. That was when he realized that he was losing it, as he had never thought of things like this before. And often times, he asked himself if it was possible that he might be in love with you because of how this infatuation took over his whole body and almost his every thought.

Everyone feels like this, at some point, he knows that. But in his case, whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he thought as if something was wrong with him. Every night, he analyzed himself, believing he was some kind of repellent that you could never want. These were signs telling him that he may be going crazy thinking about it. No one ever had an impact on him like this, but you made it seem simple just by your presence – and it was slowing driving him into the descent of madness. He didn't understand any of it, why he was obsessing over everything that you did, and somehow he felt like this was all bigger than he thought.

Several days passed, and the thought of you only engrossed his mind to a fuller degree, more than he believed was possible. What was at first a simple crush, he feared it was becoming a full fledged obsession. At times, he tried to avoid you, thinking it would put an end to whatever he was feeling, but it only made him feel worse, because he craved your attention, your affection, and just your sweet presence by him. In his mind, he knew that still had those feelings he began to dread, but he just wanted to keep it buried, hoping it wouldn't resurface.

But then he realized that he was hoping for the impossible, thinking he could wish this gut-wrenching feeling away. He didn't want to bottle this up any longer than he needed to, he wanted to confess these feelings he had for you, but his fears wouldn't let him. He was afraid that you may not be available, that you'd be out of reach, or reject him in an instant. Any of the above would make him look like a damn fool; he had nearly drove himself insane, only to be shot down like that.

One day he found himself making his way over to where you sat at the bench because he couldn't bear the ache that built up in his chest, he had to say something, he felt as if he was going to drown in his anguish if he didn't.

But instead, you did something he didn't quite expect. You slipped off your seat and rushed to him, smiling wide, relieved, as you stepped in close, wrapping your arms around him and closing the distance between you two. You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, then rested your chin on his shoulder as he stood rigidly, it was almost like hugging a statue, because it caught him off guard. You stroked the back of his hair with one hand while the other slowly rubbed the skin on his back. It was the first time you two were ever this close.

He stiffly put his arms around you, and tried to shed the nervous tension that had been possessing him all morning. Now that he was sharing this embrace with you, he tried to clear his mind, and focused all his attention on you, doing his best to let go of all extraneous thoughts and distractions.

He concentrated on your smell, citrus and spice and just a little nervous sweat. The softness of your hair against his cheek. Your arms around his shoulders, the feel of your back under his hands, your body pressed against his. Your breathing, the steady beat of your heart, the soft murmur of your voice in his ear.

"I missed you, Jerome," you said with that soft giggle he always loved. He started to soften out of that hyper-vigilant tautness, his muscles relaxing. He was leaning into the hug now, feeling the tension slowly drain out of him. He was breathing deeper, slower, feeling his heartbeat settle into a calmer rhythm. He curled his arms more securely around you, and rubbed his cheek against your hair.

"I really missed you," you murmured, still rubbing his back. You ran one hand back up into his hair, running your fingers over his scalp until he made an involuntary 'mmmm' sound and sagged against you, his face against your neck. He was limp, the strain was gone. You pulled back just enough to touch your cheek to his, so he could feel your smile.

"I missed you too," he told you, quietly. You both held on for just a little longer, then you leaned away a little and looked at him with a warm smile spreading across your face.

"Now come on, let's go and play some games!" you exclaimed, grabbing his hand firmly in yours before you practically dragged him away to play one of those repetitive games upon the circus grounds, but he didn't mind, no he didn't mind at all because he was with you. He smiled, he would tell you one day, surely he would, but for now he just wanted to enjoy being with you, and just savor what you two had, because it was the most beautiful thing he had in his life and he didn't want to screw it up. It was more than enough, for now.


End file.
